Tag Archives: sobriety

It’s been kind of a hectic week and I’ve been thinking a lot about the top 5 best traits of sober (and by this I mean those digging for a spiritual path) people, none of which I technically possess without some serious higher power intervention.

Curiosity is by far taking the #1 spot right now. But I can’t promise that it won’t look like it looks in the picture. And because it sometimes looks like it looks in the picture, I really try to avoid it at all costs. I often don’t even ask people, how are you? This is mainly because I’m afraid you’ll tell me. And then I’ll feel obligated in some way to response to what you’re telling me, and that just feels unnecessary and awkward. My solution for realizing (many years ago) that I have no effing idea what you should do, was to stop asking what was wrong with you.

In spite of how it might appear, it’s not a “I’m a bitch so I don’t give a damn about how you are” but it’s more like a “ewww…let’s not get too close” kind of thing. Feel me? Because I am like this, it didn’t even phase me when I was first dating JM and he was like, don’t touch my face. Uhhh…ok, whatever. Dealbreaker. Face touched. Happily ever after. And I think we’re both good with how it turned out. But that doesn’t change the fact that when you get close, it gets sticky sometimes. Lemme explain (and for those of you familiar with some of my explanations…I apoligize in advance.)

So I was in yoga, and I was in yadapadastrassana or whatever pose it was we were doing at the time…

Side note: I don’t think everyone can be good at yoga. This philosophy that yoga teachers like to spew in their drooliest voice that if you just keep doing the practice without expectation, you will one day magically twist your shoulders under your ass without even thinking about it, is, in my humble opinion, BS. There I said it.

Ok, so I was in yoga, well, to be exact, yoga hadn’t started yet. I was the first one in the room for the 8 a.m. yoga class, when two mid 50s men cruise in and start setting up their mats. They whip their Jade mats around like they own the place. They’re shaking out their towels and just chatting it up about Steve Jobs and whether he was a genius–clearly, the one says, he was a genius– or just a type A asshole who turned people to mush beneath his creative uhhhh, passion. And I’m (pre-class) laying on my mat with my eyes closed and not letting it get to me AT ALL.

Because I have been practicing my sitting mediation diligently. I’ve been sitting every day. I can just let their voices roll through my brain and watch them go by like a cloud. Until my inner voice becomes a thud in my head and my body heats up like it’s sitting under a palm tree in Florida in August (ok, in all fairness, that could have been because it was a HOT yoga class) and that peaceful cloud turns fierce and dark and stormy and the next thing you know, it not bothering me at all has turned into, why don’t you shut the eff up?

#SpiritualGiant.

Now at this point, there are few choices remaining in the day. As Pema says, I’m in Shenpa (more on this later) —basically I’m hooked. ANd like a fish with that hook sticking into its flesh, I’m kind of in a little bit of a jam. And I can run from that. I can wiggle and squirm. I can blame it on the absolute audacity of other people to not live by my moral code (hello Emily Post) or, I can get curious. I can detach for a moment from the storyline I’m telling and I can look at how interesting it is that something as simple as a few voices could turn a person from a pile of mush to a volcano in a matter of minutes. Curiosity. I can’t promise it won’t look like the picture, but…I can promise what you find will amaze you.

The Green Lantern’s power ring first appeared in All American Comics #16, July 1940 and throughout Superpower history, has often been referred to as the most powerful weapon in the universe. The only known limit to the power of this thing is the ring-bearer’s own will. Whatever the ring-wearer imagines, the ring will create.

If you’re looking for some life-giving force field that will let you fly (without the use of hallucinogens), travel through inhospitable environments (like Earth, or your local neighborhood), enter hyperspace (the parallel universe is no mystery to addicts and alcoholics…we’ve been living on another plane since the day we were born), look no further than your own belief system.

Your head (alcoholic or otherwise) is a highly advanced computer, and in spite of what you may think, you’re an incredible human being. You are at exactly the right place at the perfect time, and as a meditation I read each day says, you can never get it done, and never get it wrong. Look for what you want to see today, because what you look for is inevitably what you’re going to find.

The thing about the power ring (if you ever followed comics as a kid) is that it has to be worn to be effective, but if you find you’ve left your house today without this magical little contraption, fear not! At many times in Green Lantern history, the ring was summoned from a distance (even if someone else was wearing it!) So if someone has stolen your personal power this morning, just close your eyes and command it back.

By far, the most significant limitation of the power ring is the willpower of the wearer. In sobriety, that’s a little thing we call faith. It’s what you are willing to believe. Are you willing to believe this morning that a power greater than you can restore you to sanity, can remove unhealthy obsessions, can place you as an equal (not less than or more than) in the middle of your world…a safe place where you are busy with the work of living and where you are surrounded by the love and support of others?

It’s an incredible feeling to be one among…our weaknesses are only what we believe is not possible for us. If you (like the power ring) need a little recharging today, why not flex your prayer muscle a little. The first time I said the 3rd step prayer, it was with my sponsor and we got on our knees in my apartment. I found this awkward and unnecessary. But that’s not the point. Since then I’ve said the 3rd step prayer many times (and usually not on my knees) because it reflects what I am willing to have happen in my life today:

I offer myself (in other words…I’m here for you Universe.)

Build with me and do with me what YOU will. (This was–and sometimes still is–hard to say, mainly because I instinctively think that it’s going to be something I won’t like. I should clarify that this has not been the case. In 11 years, god’s (his/her/it’s/energy/superconscious) plan for me has always been better than mine.

Relieve me of the bondage of self (who cares that I’m getting relieved so I can better do a ‘higher calling’ …whatever! Just take it. Being in bondage sucks!)

Take away my difficulties (yes please! I’ll take 2nd servings on that one! And again, not an issue that it’s so I can be of more service. You know why that’s fine? Because I get to do a lot of cool stuff and it’s where I’m happiest, even though I rarely know that in the moment.)

May I do your will. I’m gonna be honest here. I don’t know who ‘your’ is. But I have a sense of the will. It’s love, service, patience, kindness. It’s softness in a crazy world. It’s fearlessness in the face of things that are just plain wrong. It’s a persistent faith in hope, goodness, mercy, redemption, evolution. Doing ‘your will’ for me is a spiritual practice. Back to the beginning. I’m never done. It’s never over.

So, if you live somewhere that’s actually cold right now…I’m sorry. The ATX is warm and sunny with days in the mid 70s and cool evenings that encourage dining outside with nothing more than a light sweater. While you may be cursing me now, there will be plenty of time for your revenge when it’s 107 for 93 days in a row.

With the sudden onset of spring (my pear tree is flowering!) came a few musings from the garden, but first let me clarify that my version of ‘garden’ is a perennial failure. Just yesterday I was driven to the backyard in utter despair by weeds that have now grown past my knees. How does one battle these creeping little succubi while still trying to (quick, get my cape!) save the planet? JM is adamantly against the chemical weed killer, though he offered little redeeming advice from his perch on the back steps as I was weeding away, ripping crab grass like it was the heart of my dead father’s last wife. Did I just say that? Okay, I digress.

Anyway, the point is, I have the blackest thumb on the planet, but I don’t let that stop me from engaging in what has become a spring ritual of heading over to the Natural Gardener and spending a TON of money on a bunch of stuff that will die sometime just short of mid-July. By then I’ve grown sulky and annoyed with the heat, perturbed by the endless swarms of mosquitos trying to suck the life out of me, and generally listless and complacent. In spite of the fact that this has now been my depressing ritual for the past 6 years in Austin, Texas (I miss Cali where you can grow anything…just stick a seed in the ground and walk away, #Done!) as soon as the gentle gusty breezes of spring appear, I’m like the alcoholic that can’t remember the last debacle.

Yesterday, as I was ripping (weeds) and praying that nothing disgusting crawled out on my hand, I had a long time to muse over this ritual–my past failures and what I’ve learned.

I’m all about forest gardening right now…like, obsessively about it, but since I’ve finally come to realize that not everyone shares all of my obsessions, I’ll leave that conversation at a link (if you’re interested) and move along to the garden muse.

1. Stop trying to plant things that won’t grow.

This is a great one…and not just for your garden. Regardless of how I love all the fragrant budding blooms gathered attractively at the check-out in the gardening department, the fact of the matter is that a gazillion deer occupy my street, and those precious little buggers will eat anything colorful, and anything that smells good.

Much like gardening, I find that sometimes in my spiritual life, I am still trying to plant things that just won’t grow. Sometimes I do this with relationships. I often do it with skills that I think I should have (but have no natural desire or inclination towards) and I almost always regret it in a big way. There’s a point in tending to your spiritual garden when you begin to realize that roses aren’t everyone’s choice. Some of us like peonies, dahlias, daisies, whatever. Stop trying to plant roses (unless you like roses, and then by all means, plant away–they are actually incredibly hardy!)

2. Do the dirty work

That means weed away. And pull that stuff up at the roots. No cheating! Weeds thrive on unhealthy soil (god himself only knows what’s in mine) and the best way to kill the weeds (and save the planet…you can thank JM later) is to get on your hands and knees and get a little dirt under your fingernails. The truth is, I always resist yard work, but once I’m out there, I’m generally at peace with what I’m doing. And I realize that my resistance comes from the fact that I think I’m too busy to tend to my garden, or that too many other important things are happening that require my attention. This is BS.

A healthy lawn (garden, flowers, whatever) cannot grow unless the soil is nutrient rich and the garbage is cleaned out. Is this sounding like an inventory to you? Yup! Do the dirty work spiritually. You may resist it because you think you’re really really busy with you’re really really important life…but it’s BS. You’ll find that once on your knees in the dirt, you’ll probably be at peace with what you’re doing.

3. Educate yourself

I don’t know why, but I instinctively and regularly fail to realize that I need to educate myself about my yard. I sort of assume (and am later annoyed to discover how wrong I am) that I know what I’m doing. I mean how hard could it be for christ’s sake? It’s grass, a rake, a shovel, and a big hole that I’m going to stick something living in before I pile dirt over it.

Well, it turns out that it’s a litte more complicated than that. My arrogance, grandiosity and laziness always have the same result…a dead yard in mid-July. And by that time I’m ready to move back to the city and embrace concrete and glass and call a sky-scraper home. Maybe this is #1 for me. Maybe I keep trying to plant a gardener in me that just won’t grow. But maybe, I just need to be humble and willing enough to educate myself a little and learn.

4. Patience

There’s not a little old lady with blue curly hair out there growing perfect tomatoes and bell peppers who won’t remind you that patience is the virtue of all amazing gardeners. It doesn’t happen overnight dammit. Like most incredible things, it takes steady work and a lot of diligence and the results kind of happen somewhere in the middle when we’re busy plugging away and not even looking for them anymore.

“When you realize that there was never anything in the dark to be afraid of, you can laugh.” Alan Watts

What is God? God is the same thing you are…a void. As Alan Watts would say, total transparency, the ultimate space in which anything can happen. The realization that there is nothing to fear would also be a realization that we know nothing about God. That’s just a human word for something beyond our understanding. It doesn’t mean we can’t feel it. The feeling part is about vibration and energy. It’s a very real and measurable thing.

But there is no permanency here. There are no boundaries. We are a blip on the radar. There are waves of experiences that have come before us and unlimited ones that will come long after we are gone. Every wave has a crest and a trough, human labels we have put on things to help us understand them. Sound, light…they have already happened (come and gone) by the time you experience them. Everything you experience is already over.

Humans are obsessed with separation. We define ourselves in countless classifications: gender, color, race, religion, height, weight, degrees of success, education, income, possessions. It’s exhausting. Why do we do it? Perhaps it is our scramble to feel safer, to make sense of it all.

But I need to keep my perspective on life and on my sobriety like Watts’ description of Buddhism. The ultimate space in which anything can happen. It’s large, limitless. It doesn’t look like anything…not a box, not a circle. It’s not linear. It is infinite in possibility. The big question is are you enjoying it?

Okay, they don’t walk into a bar…but today’s post is about a Hindu goddess, and her name is Akhilanda. She’s the goddess of ‘Never not broken’ and she’s an amazing introduction into talking about the 1st step.

You know that feeling when you just woke up in your own puke or you suddenly realize that you forgot you mother’s birthday? They used to call it incomprehensible demoralization when I was new…but I don’t hear that term as much anymore. Anyway, you’re lying on your bedroom floor and you feel completely broken.

Well, according to the elephant Journal’s JC Peters, in that moment, you are more powerful than you’ve ever been. In her article on Akhilanda, she talks (from a Hindu perspective) about what we in A.A. call surrender, or the 1st step. As I was telling a friend in a meeting last week, I am the most powerful when I am completely broken. It takes that moment of brokenness to get me to give up all remaining hope that I have the answer to my problem. And then, in coming attractions, that’s when the a power greater than myself can actually have some wiggle room to work in my life.

It’s not the kind of broken that tears you down to humiliate you. It’s the kind of broken that tears you apart, and therein is Akhilanda’s (and the sober alcoholics’) real power. In pieces, we can begin to put things back together in a different picture…a picture that reflects more accurately who we want to be and what we want life to look like. Hopefully we do this with a mindfulness of aligning our ambitions with a Higher Power’s grand plan for our life.

In the myth about Akhilanda, she rides a crocodile. The crocodile represents our reptilian brain, but it’s also a powerful commentary on what we should do with our problems. Many people think the crocodile masters its prey with strong jaws that kill it…not so! The crocodile actually drags its prey into the river (or into the flow) and spins it senseless (until its broken) and THEN eats it.

If you’re sober today and you’re feeling broken or cracked, embrace that. Lean into it. Because the cracks are where the light flows in. If you’re sober today and you’re working really hard to become some vision of wholeness, release that. Let it go. We are never whole, and that’s a good thing. Because wholeness (by definition) is about limitation. When I am exactly what I’m going to be, I am automatically excluding everything I have yet to become. So again (and I hate this) there’s no destination.

Being broken is the perfect place to start over in our sobriety, because we have lost all expectation of what life is going to become. That’s the first step. It’s surrender. First we surrender to the fact that we are alcoholic and that alcohol makes our life unmanageable (waking up in your own puke, forgetting your mother’s birthday, fill in the blanks.) Then as we get a little freedom from that, instead of working the 1st step, the 1st step starts to work us. We recognize that there are many thing we are powerless over. There are many things that make our life unmanageable. This is how the journey of a few simple steps becomes the journey of a lifetime, and of limitless expansion.

It’s a new year, and I’m feeling a lengthy discussion of the steps (one day at a time) coming on. Happy Sunday.

Dear sober alcoholic, I cannot tell you how keeping in touch will make all the difference in your sober life. And believe me, you’re talking to someone who knows.

One of my WORST traits when I got here (and frankly, if we’re being honest, for years after I arrived) was my complete unwillingness/inability to keep in touch (call you back..or just call in the first place.)

There were a lot of reasons. Some of them were better than others. I had a new baby, I was newly married. I was newly sober (again). I was nuts. I had just made a major move halfway across the country. I didn’t know you. I wasn’t sure I liked you. I wasn’t sure I was staying (in Texas…or married…or in some moments, sober, so what was the point?) What would I say anyway? You get it right? But let me reiterate–WORK THE STEPS OR DIE.

I heard that in a meeting today. Very good, and I like it. Get’s right to the point. It is the WHY of why we do this thing. Essentially, we’re not quite ready to die. Thus, the spiritual path becomes an option. So what does that have to do with the phone and keeping in touch?

We have to share this thing with someone (although I’m pretty sure..and the oldtimers can correct me here if I’m wrong…that the BB doesn’t say anything about a sponsor in the first 164 pages. But yes, you probably still need one, unless you’re Chuck C., which you aren’t, so just get a sponsor please.) We cannot do it alone, and the together part is the best part anyway. There’s nowhere that feels quite like an AA (or NA) meeting to me. These are my people. This is my hometown. The first real roots I ever had were in Alcoholics Anonymous, and they didn’t come easy. It took women telling me that it hurt them when I didn’t call back. It took people telling me they wanted to know me better but I made it very difficult. It took one old lady calling me the ‘ice princess’ and wishing on me that I might melt in AA. Jesus. That’s a lot to absorb when you’re new.

I was mostly afraid. And what I have learned over many years is that the more I call you back the easier it gets. This practice might take several years to get really good at. Then you will find yourself sort of automatically picking up the phone to call someone first. You will be the one to say, hey, I was just thinking of you–BECAUSE YOU WERE. And you know what that means, right? That you weren’t (in that nanosecond) thinking of yourself. And that will feel crazy weird…and then it will kind of make you smile.

Because the not calling, not keeping in touch, not letting yourself be a part of it…it’s really about not feeling good enough inside. It’s about that enormous alcoholic ego coupled with a deep loss of self-esteem. When you get a little self-esteem (it’s easier than it sounds…just start doing esteemable things) what you will realize is what it means to be human, to be a part of, and to be (if even for just a moment) enough.

Uhhh…okay. This may be wrong, because even my mouth is watering here. But that has nothing to do with me wanting to use, because thankfully, using (and drinking) have not seemed like solutions to any of my problems in a really long time. It has everything to do with what I was telling a (fairly) newcomer at my meeting last night–I sometimes have thoughts about drinking (or using) and when I have those thoughts, it may just be because I am an alcoholic! It’s the most normal thing in the world (especially when I’m newish) to think about a drink.

This is why it comes in handy to run your thoughts by someone who may have a little more time than you, or who may just be a little saner than you happen to be in any given moment. I call this Networking tip # 5: Solve challenges by connecting people with people. I desperately need my sober network, because if I suddenly go from thinking about morphine to deciding to use some, I’m a dead woman walking. There’s nothing that stops me when my disease is in action. I will go to any length to change the way I feel. That’s one of the ways I know I’m alcoholic. I used drugs and alcohol primarily because I liked the effect.

It’s also one of the reasons I stay sober…becuase I like the effect. One of my favorite program passages is from the Twelve & Twelve (p. 124) and it’s what the book calls the ‘Permanent and legitimate satisfactions of right living.”

Sometimes it’s like people only see the worst in me! Volatile? Brooding? Overbearing? That is so judgemental!

I can be difficult at times, I don’t deny that, but as I once told a boyfriend whom I lived with for about 48 1/2 hours, if you think I can be ugly on the outside, you should see what it looks like on my insides.

The truth is, I’m a mixed bag, and it’s been many many years now since I felt that ugly inside. I can be impenetrable and secretive. It’s probably the characteristic (defect perhaps) that I have the least control over. But like most of us, much of what you get from me depends on how you care for me, and of course, most of what you get from me depends on how I am caring for myself at any given time. So TAKE CARE!

I woke up this morning and my first conscious thought was, I’m so glad I’m doing this thing (meaning life.) If you’re having a hard time today, I’m sure you’re thrilled for me that I’m feeling so good. I used to want to vomit when I would hear people talk about how happy they were. That would all be part of my ‘jealous and brooding’ self. One of the ugliest things about me is that I can be belatedly (meaning not right away) happy when those I care for experience something I perceive as a great success. Ugh! It’s so ugly. But in the last several years, it’s slowly gotten better. Let me put it another way, I covet _________________. In other words, any life that’s not my own. It dates back to late 1979 (I was 7!) when I thought that if we could just move into an apartment without the sinfully disgusting puke green shag carpet, my life would get better.

I have a sister. Here she is:

We weren’t raised together (long story!) but we met exactly 20 years ago when she was 11 and I was 18. As you know from reading the blog, I was deeply into my addictions at the time, and I wasn’t afraid to share them with her on the occasion that we might be in the same house at the same time, unsupervised.

My relationship with this young lady has (at times) been a source of great pain. She is hyper-smart. And super confident. And she majored in something like nuclear fuel science. She had a college degree before I rolled out of my own puke, and most relevant perhaps, our father raised her, after he abandoned me. You can guess that the dynamics have been difficult over the years. You bet I coveted her experience in life. I coveted her LIFE! Which led me to cause her great harm at times.

But this weekend, as she shared some of the things she’s feeling and going through, I had a moment of extreme gratitude for my own personal experience (the good and the bad of it!) I realized that this person, who I really love, is suffering a very human exposure to instability and she doesn’t have any of the basic training I’ve gotten in more than 11 years in the program.

What a powerful gift it is to realize that we are driving the bus. This is what sobriety taught me. Regardless of what anyone around me is doing, saying, thinking, feeling…it doesn’t matter. It’s none of my business. Because I can’t control it. I can’t change it. I am the only person I have any control over. The last four years have been what my sister calls ‘the worst 4 years of her life’ due to some shared family dramas. But for me, they have been 4 amazing years spotted with some very bad moments. What a difference in perspectives that is. I have learned not to hold on. We have to let things go. Otherwise they eat us, quite literally, alive.

As we approach 2012, may you let it all go. Letting go makes room for new things. It clears an empty space. It’s like a controlled burn for your soul. Very very important. Otherwise you’re just an overgrown mess full of dead foliage.

Maybe instead of holding on to whatever dramas have invaded our life, what we really need is a new set of care instructions. Maybe setting a few boundaries is in order. Maybe it’s time to let someone know exactly what we need from them and to find out once and for all if that person is capable or has the desire to meet those needs. But maybe, our real happiness depends on our willingness to look for the best in life. Optimism is everything. In hope, there is possibility, promise, excitement. Whatever fills us with anger, resentment, sorrow and grief…we need to let that go, because there is absolutely nothing there for us that can help us in any way at all.

This year there was a ton of research into the disease of alcoholism and trends affecting addicts and alcoholics. Many of the findings were predictable, including the fact that high rates of addiction are linked to cancer, mental illness and poverty. Predictably, doctors are still handing out high-powered prescriptions without a second thought, and addiction disrupts the sleep cycle (particularly for women), but there were two studies I found especially interesting.

The first is a Harvard study that shows that AA helps people stay sober (read more about it here) by increasing our spirituality–even for those of us who may come to the rooms as agnostics or atheists. It seems we soak up a little of the good stuff just by putting our rear end in a chair and staying there for a prolonged period of time. The study also showed that meeting attendance helps support new social networks, reduce depression and motivate us to keep on the path of sobriety. So, yay for A.A.

The second study I thought was noteworthy was one from Case Western Reserve University Medical School that showed helping others increases a person’s chances of staying sober. It seems that the pathway to long-term sobriety truly is paved with good deeds. So if you’re grumbly this holiday season and you’re feeling a little like a train that might jump the tracks, get busy being of service to someone other than yourself.

In related news:

This is the way my face looks after trying to take a decent holiday picture with JM 17 times, with him making crazy faces the entire time. In more than 10 years of marriage I have hardly one photo where we are both making a ‘happy photo face’ at the exact moment the photo is snapped. Bleh!

And lastly: MOST UNIQUE CHRISTMAS GIFT EVER

Yes it is a red velour sombrero, and yes it was hand-crafted by JM as a Christmas gift to be remembered. The back says Adios Sucka, and the front says, La Jefe–The Boss–that’s right!REPRESENT!

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I so needed that big deep breath. Okay, so I ♥ this saying. Found it on the electronic Google machine (as my husband calls it) and it fits my life perfectly, so I thought I’d share.

But this isn’t a serious post. We’re way too close to Christmas and the arrival of all the family and holiday madness that ensues. For the next few days, I’ll just be reporting from my life for your entertainment pleasure.

FROM THE GROCERY STORY

I arrived at the HEB around 5 p.m., fully prepared to master my major list without forgetting anything (Spoiler alert: I am short one container of Parmesan cheese and some winter beans for a tomatillo stew JM is making…so that plan FAILED!) I should mention that when I first moved to Texas from Los Angeles, the grocery store was a major nemesis for me. Californians are totally spoiled by an abundance of extremely fresh produce at what I now realize are dirt cheap prices. Unless you want to spend $17 on a pound of grapes at Whole Foods, managing healthy eating of whole foods is a lot more difficult here. This however, is just an aside. I’ve got the situation under control now (6 years later!)

I prepared for market success, eating before I left the house. I left the children at home with their father. I parked strategically–not close enough to be engaged in any parking lot wars, but not far enough to be soaked trying to lug 79 bags of groceries to the car. I brought my list and a pen, walked in the door and headed straight for the bathroom. Entrance of said bathroom was completely blocked by a young mother who stood tormented with an infant strapped to her chest in one of those sling things that kind of always makes you think the kid is going to fall out. While she was wrangling three other children under the age of 5, she looked at me trying to get in the bathroom and flat out said, what do you want me to do?. I cracked up. What can I say…I feel her pain! Said children were arguing over a toy machine. One screamed and started pulling its own hair while the other grabbed a hold of her leg and started climbing up. She looked miserable, and that kind of tired that leaves you wondering if you are homicidal or suicidal. As I squeezed past her ginormous cart (the ridiculous one with the plastic car stuck to the front of it) I slammed the bathroom door shut behind me and took a humongous breath and thanked whatever gods may be that my own children are now 7 & 10. I have only puberty to look forward to.

In related news, why is it that every flavor candy cane is stocked in plenty, but not one box of regular sized peppermint candy canes could be found among the 7,000 other boxes lining the shelves? I will now LITERALLY have to crush the enormous mega-size peppermint sticks (that were twice as much and infinitely more work) by hand with a hammer instead of simply putting the whole shebang (not sure on the spelling of this word) into my Cuisinart. What’s a girl to do? This annoying and potentially dangerous situation is unavoidable, and I’m wondering if I have any legal recourse against HEB in the event of an accident, since I am basically on ‘No Sleep till Brooklyn’ mode and should probably not be using any kind of tool.

Lastly, and least important, the Best Jacket Ever award goes to the black poofy one I’ve been wearing as a standby for years. Gap, Circa 2004, has weathered hailstorms, rain, several road trips across the country and small children’s vomit, but tonight’s spilled bottle of buttermilk makes it official. Waterproof is always the way to go.